Stray
by Ofdensocks
Summary: A shepherd needs a sheep, and a lost lamb needs a shepherd. All that is required is to coax the lamb into the fold.
1. Stalked

He ran through the woods. The air was heavy, the trees bare and gnarled. Thick mist hung all over, obscuring things, curling around his ankles.

It was dark. Dead tree limbs and thorns scraped at his skin. But he ran.

Someone was calling his name.

_'Dean...'_

A woman. It wasn't a voice he recognized and yet something in him knew it somehow. The young man stops, panting, eyes wide and wildly darting. His breath is burning in his throat and there's a slight stitch in his side. How long has he been running?

"What...?"

He's not sure if he should run to or from the voice. He's never run from anything, but he might run now. He can't remember ever being this afraid.

_'Dean... can't you find your way?'_

Sweet, that voice is. Kind, concerned. Like a mother to a child. Most of him doesn't trust it anymore than he trusts anyone or anything else... but part of him can't help but.

"...'m lost."

That was sure true. He had no clue where the hell he was. Just damn trees and fog everywhere.

_'You certainly are, boy. But don't be afraid, don't worry. It's alright. You won't be lost for long.'_

There's a light in the distance, through the wood. A woman stands in that ray. He can't make out if she's old or young, ugly or beautiful, but he knows- knows by that part of him that trusts the voice, the part of him that knows its sound- that it is the woman calling to him.

A flock of large dark birds fly above, forms black winged shilouettes against the dark purple sky, voices harsh.

_'Just follow the buzzards...'_

-

Dean Ambrose bursts awake, gasping, face slick with a sheen of cold sweat. He's shaking.

He'd had his share of bizzare dreams. That wasn't anything new, it was the product of having a mind like his. But that was different. It was so real. So real he wasn't even sure of the moisture on his skin was sweat or condensation from that misty forest.

His heart felt sick. Without thinking, he fumbled for his phone and opened it to his contacts.

A grand total of one. It used to have two, but the other'd been deleted for some time. Staring at the sole name left, his finger hovers over it. Tap it. Call him. Talk it out. He'll...

He'll say you're being stupid.

This is stupid.

_It was a dumb dream, that's all. Born out of a brutal match with a weird ending and a half-crazy brain. You do not need to call Roman for that. Just because you only have one friend does not mean you should bug him for everything. Especially things that aren't anything but sleeping brain movies._

He tosses the phone aside.

_Forget it. Just go about your day. Take a shower. Have a bowl of Crunch Berries. Throw the non-berry pieces at people who bug you. Follow the buzzards. Maybe go for a run. Punch Rollins in his stupid fucking face if you see hi-_

_Wait. What?_

Dean shakes his head. Get that stupid dream out of your head.

That's all it is.

_A shepherd needs sheep. That goes without saying, man. A shepherd without sheep is just some person standing in a field with no purpose. No. A shepherd need sheep to watch after, to protect, to guide and lead._

_And a lost lamb? He needs a shepherd. Otherwise he is lost, he is vulnerable to the wickedness of the world. And what lamb needs a shepherd more than one who has been cast aside by his own flock? _

_I see that lamb. She has too. He's seen the signs but he doesn't know what they are. Not yet. But he will._

_Come on home, little one. _

_Don't stray._


	2. Solitary

He couldn't sleep. He could not sleep.

He COULD sleep, but he couldn't. Could not allow it.

He didn't want to see it again. The forest, the fog. The buzzards. Her. No, her least of all. He didn't want to see her, hear her kind and motherly voice, see her faceless form reaching out for him, feel the hard and nearly irresistable desire to go to her.

He hadn't slept in days. His auburn hair hung in his wild blue eyes. He moved and acted more animalistically than usual.

Dean Ambrose's head was screaming and his blood was boiling. He wanted to kick and bite and punch and tear things apart.

Torn.

_That love and security was torn from you, wasn't it?_

He'd laughed when he'd said it. The son of a bitch had LAUGHED. Laughed at the fact Dean had been abandoned. Laughed that it wasn't the first time. How had he known? How had he KNOWN?

Dean bites at his knuckles savagely. They were already toothmarked. People walked by. They either didn't notice him or were pretending not to. Maybe there were scared of him. Heh, wouldn't blame them for that.

_Or maybe they pity you. Poor stray dog, all alone in the bad ol' world. No friends, no brothers. No father..._

"Shut up shut up SHUT UP SHUTUPSHUTUP-"

He clutches his ears, tugging at his hair. His whole body shakes.

Slowly, one hand reaches into his pocket. Pulls out his phone. Hovers his finger over that lone contact, trying to think what he could possibly say.

_I'm in bad trouble, Ro. Everything's falling apart and I need you. I need you and I need Seth but that fucker isn't going to do a damn thing for me and I don't want him to anyway. But I need you and you're not here. Please be here okay because I need you and I'm... I'm fucking sc-... I'm fucking... FUCK IT._

He lets go of the phone, dropping it back into his jacket pocket. How pathetic did that sound? Pathetic. Weak. He couldn't be pathetic or weak. He didn't need Roman. He didn't need anybody. He could handle this himself. He'd handled worse. Right? He was just fine on his own.

_Or are you? I can help you, if you want it... heal you... you'll never be afraid or alone again... I can fix you, Dean Ambrose..._

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!"

The screech attracted the attention of a few passers-by. Crew, it seemed. Dean snarls at them, throwing the nearest thing he can grab. Stop STARING. They scatter, the box, full of light bulbs, popping and sending glassy shrapnel all over.

Like a spooked creature, Dean hops down from the large footlocker he'd been hunched atop of and sprints from the scene of the crime. Assault and property damage. Back into the relative safety of his locker room.

* * *

><p><em>No man is an island, you know. I've seen many people try. Oh, they try so hard, man, try to prove they're a better breed of creature, they don't need to travel in herds like sheep. Or even packs like wolves. Nah, man, they got it all figured out. They don't need nobody.<em>

_Only they do. Everybody does. To quote Steinbeck, 'A guy goes nuts if he ain't got nobody. Don't make no difference who the guy is, long's he's with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an' he gets sick.'_

_It's only a matter of time. It's already begun. That lonely sickness'll start setting in till he can't bear it no more, and when it does... oh, I'll be waiting._


End file.
